Me with my mum Rachael, who I lost to bowel cancer last year.
Dear Mum,
I can’t believe how long it’s been since I last saw you. I miss you more and more each day. There is so much that I want to tell you, that I wish you could know.
Mother’s Day is coming around. You always loved celebrating with us. I loved seeing the joy you’d get from one of our random presents we’d bought at the school’s Mother’s Day stall, which you’d probably ended up paying for. You always loved our tacky homemade cards about how much we loved you, how much we cared.
It feels so unfair all these mums being celebrated and loved and not being able to do the same for you.
I’ll miss getting up at 6am to cook you pancakes or breakfast in bed. I’ll miss jumping onto the end of your bed and watching you open presents. I’ll miss going out and rejoicing in my wonderful mother and all the things you’d done for us.
The last few years Mother’s Day has fallen on Eurovision. While most mothers would’ve complained about the 5am wake up call, you thought it was the best gift of all. You’ve always shared such a love of Eurovision and its weird and random songs that are very hit or miss. This love you passed down to us as well. For as long as I can remember, Eurovision songs have been played in our house as if they’re any other song, not just a strange selection of music that is often sung in a language we can’t even understand.
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to be just like you.
With your smarts and wit, your class, humour, strength and bravery. You were everything I aspired to be and more. I lost not only my mother but my role model, my best friend. The person I wanted to share everything with is gone. And I feel so alone. So very alone in a world where the odds seem stacked up against me.
One of many moments together that I treasure.
This year is going to be two hits in one. Our first ever beloved Eurovision contest without you and our first Mother’s Day.
I still struggle to comprehend the fact that you’re gone. Sometimes when I wake up, I forget.
It still doesn’t quite feel real to me, you being so permanently gone. It’s such a strange concept, that you’re gone forever. Forever is such an awfully long time. But the thought that you’re out there somewhere, watching over me makes me happy. It makes me want to achieve, to do my best, to make you proud.
So, my beautiful Mumma, as Mother’s Day rolls around again I want you to know how cherished and admired you are.
Your greatest fear was being forgotten but I promise we could never forget you, even if we tried.
All the love in the world.
Your little one,
Adele
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